Sweet Amber
by love park
Summary: Somethings are better left unforgotten...gary.ash. slash (spinoff to 'smile for me')


A/N: Ok this fic is sorta a spinoff to Meggie1's fic, 'Smile for Me' located here:  
  
http://www.fanfiction.net/read.php?storyid=524744  
  
I don't really know her, although I tried to contact her but the fic was written over 2 yrs ago so she probably changed email addresses. Ok so basically this fic is readable without reading her's first, but for reference reading her's before or after would make things much clearer. There might be some small editing problems, mainly cause im lazy, so hopefully it still flows. And also i had a problem with the italiacs, so hopefully its not hard to tell which parts are the thoughts. Constructive criticism is accepted, as well as reviews. Of course, this is slash. Don't like it, don't read.  
  
Disclaimer: Possessions are 9/10ths of the law...so take it to Washington, not me...  
  
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The last battle for the day was over. He warily retreated to his quarters behind the stadium, exhausted and excited over the turn of events. He had just won his third battle in a row. Part of the shock had not settled within his consciousness, but he knew that this was his destiny. He should be happier.  
  
And yet, here he sat. Pokeball's in one hand, sweat rag in another. Anyone in his position, hell anyone in his right mind, would be jumping for joy. He felt empty, hollow. He felt like he was missing something, and he knew that he was. Of course, he also knew that it wasn't a something rather than a someone.  
  
He groaned aggressively, hiding his head in his hands. The news that he had received after he won the last battle shook him, and made his heart flutter in a way that he hadn't felt in a long time.   
  
He knew this was going to happen sooner or later. Its just one of those premonition things, although he didn't know if he felt that this was a warning per se. He didn't know what he felt at the moment, except utterly confused and tired.   
  
Oh he was tired. Tired of the drama, tired of thoughts and feelings, tired of the harsh reality that he tried so hard to forget for so many months. He knew this day was going to come, but why did it have to be now?  
  
His next battle would be against Gary Oak.   
  
That single name brought back memories that Ash wish he could forget. Memories that should have never become, because the harshness of it all was too much for Ash to handle. Of course, for the sake of his friends, family, even himself, he had to hide it. He had to wear the determined, courageous, daring facade of a future Pokemon master.   
  
But as to this moment all of that hard work seemed worthless. Ever since that announcement he couldn't help but allow those past feelings to come rushing back like a tidal wave, knocking him senseless. It was killing him inside. Part of Ash wanted to force all these feelings in the back of his head, hopefully to stay until after the battle. Another part of him was telling him to run. Run from his destiny, run from his feelings. A third part of Ash wanted nothing more than to find Gary and have his way with him.  
  
Ash looked up stunned. 'Have his way with him...' That single thought scared and excited him. Ash sighed, frustrated at the sudden rush of emotions. Nervously pacing his quarters, he ignored the pounding of his door which was caused by none other than his adoring fans. Also known as his mother, Misty, Tracie, Brock, and probably Richie.   
  
As soon as he had reached his quarters he immediately locked all doors leading out. He had decided that he didn't need anymore excitement. Of course, that didn't keep his loyal companion from not entering. Pikachu sat next to his friend, pondering what could have upset him so much. Ash so much as offered Pikachu a weary smile, which the electric Pokemon saw right through.   
  
Walking towards one of the many walls, Ash instantly slid down, feeling incredibly weak. He knew this feeling all too well, and he didn't like it one bit. As if on cue, slow tears started to trail down his pale cheeks.   
  
He hated crying, he believed it to be a sign of weakness. He can only remember crying like this twice before, when his Butterfree flew away to freedom, and the incident...  
  
Just that thought sent a wave of emotions through his body, and he could no longer control himself. Choked sobs escaped his lips as he buried his head into his folded arms.   
  
"Pika?"  
  
He felt the presence of his Pikachu, stubby hands rubbing his back, offering comfort of a true friend.   
  
He didn't know how long he sat there, but he did know the feeling that he was being watched. He felt the presence of another...  
  
Not daring to raise his head, his ears became alert and the sobs quietly subsided as he made out the soft footsteps inching closer to his crouched figure. A voice, an all too familiar and eerie voice, called his name. He dared not to respond.  
  
"You're crying."  
  
His heart must have skipped two beats. It took all of his might not to make a sound, afraid that even the tiniest whimper would give away what was left of his dignity.  
  
"I haven't seen you cry since...." the voice trailed off, not sure whether to continue that train of thought that neither figures wanted to ride.  
  
Taking his dare, Ash slowly raised his head to the face of the figure. The figure that has haunted the exoticness of his dreams, and the horror of his nightmares. The figure that has been the rise and fall of the emotional roller coaster that has questioned Ash's sanity for the past god forsaken months.  
  
Feeling his courage take control of him, he slowly raised himself on weak knees, unconsciously brushing Pikachu aside. He stood, inches away from the figure that has subconsciously controlled his mind, body, and soul. Inches away from that peering, icy, dark stare of his long time rival. Inches away from the pink curves of soft lips....  
  
Blinking rapidly, as if to clear his mind, he stared long and hard at his one rival. Trying desperately not to give into temptation, he equally stared into Gary's face. The face that has definitely changed over the past months. The face that has been harden by the life of battle, yet structured so that even the littlest of change can bring out the glow in it.   
  
They stared. None exchanging words, but each other's eyes holding rapid conversations.  
  
'Why are you here?'  
  
'Why are you crying?'  
  
Aggravation built up deep within Ash. He didn't need this, he sure as hell couldn't take this.  
  
'I told you before. We are rivals, nothing more. Just leave me alone...'  
  
I see you, I know you...you know how I feel, and I know how you feel...'  
  
Ash felt his blood boil. iHow dare he...  
  
'How dare you...'  
  
'What must I do...'  
  
And with this, Ash looked at him sincerely. His eyes searching Gary's forcefully, detecting nothing but sadness...and love. But he knew Gary, he knew him all too well...  
  
'If you knew me, you would know...'  
  
Shifting his eyes to the ground, he broke the stare. It ended here...  
  
He turned to walk away, but was stopped instantly with two strong hands forcefully grabbing his shoulder blades. Before he could react, he was slammed hard against the wall.  
  
Too shocked, too paralyzed to even breath correctly, his eyes shot up to those of Gary's. His rivals eyes were searching, gazing deeply into Ash's.   
  
And he smiled.  
  
Small, pure, and beautiful. He smiled down at Ash's moonlight pale face.  
  
Ash's mind raced, his heart did back flips. He couldn't believe his eyes. 'He smiled...for me..'.  
  
He felt Gary's hand run through his matted hair, pushing his trademark cap back until it hit the ground. Ash felt his eyelids getting heavier while staring wide into Gary's deep gaze. Harmonically, his eyes slipped into little slits as Gary ran his hands over Ash's cheeks. His rival's face was ever so close, he could almost taste the sweet, hot breath.   
  
Feeling his eyes close as the heat of passion got stronger, his mind swirled awaiting, he wanted, he needed...  
  
All thoughts cut off, as Gary caught his lips swiftly.   
  
He was on fire. The feeling of soft, moist lips against his own, his rivals body pressed so closed to his own, his back arching against the hard wall. The slight turning of heads as the kiss was deepened, the sighs escaping his mouth as two tongues swirled in ecstacy. The feeling of hands running through his hair, up and down his arms, chest, back, thighs. Both bodies pulsating from the heat and passion that filled the air.  
  
And he remembered the smile  
  
This was his destiny. 


End file.
